


Where I Sleep

by surprisepink



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surprisepink/pseuds/surprisepink
Summary: Linhardt, Caspar, and love languages.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 10
Kudos: 111





	Where I Sleep

Linhardt's mother still tells a story every holiday season about when he was eight or nine and was asked to give his aunt a kiss on the cheek; he yelled "no!" and promptly disappeared into his room. All of his relatives laugh about it now, but Linhardt sill feels like he was quite justified, and he’d still be doing the same thing if he thought he could get away with it as an adult. (As it stands, he would probably start the party off in his room already, if he were still in any position to attend parties.)

There's little use in all of the casual kissing, hugging, touching that’s looked upon as expected between family and acquaintances. It's all pomp and circumstances between people who wish to show off to the world that they care for each other, or are at least pretending to.

It leads people to think he's aloof sometimes, that he doesn’t seem to notice when a new acquaintance reaches to shake his hand or doesn't bother to kiss a lady's cheek after a dance that he only participated in out of obligation in the first place. And that suits him just fine; best to be seen as aloof and be the one doing the approaching, if he’s ever interested.

Like most things in the world, it’s very different when Caspar is involved.

"You don't mind?" Caspar murmurs, even now curling his nude body around Linhardt's, his chest to Linhardt's back and their legs intertwining.

Linhardt is already half asleep, his mind at peace and his body still feeling like jelly after their lovemaking. "Mind what?"

"This, uh-" he pauses, searching for the right word, "cuddling, I guess. You don't usually like people touching you."

"We touched quite a bit just now," Linhardt replies flatly. And he had been very enthusiastic then, probably more enthusiastic than he was over just about anything else. "And I think it's quite clear that I enjoyed it."

Caspar lets out a long, slow breath, and Linhardt can feel his heart beat a touch faster. It's nice, he thinks, how Caspar responds this way to even the tiniest expression of affection. Cute, even.

"I don't like putting on airs," he continues, "and that means I'm not going to force myself into close proximity to someone just because they think I'm supposed to. It's not like that when it's you."

Caspar’s love is given freely, and he loves so many things - their friends, every single cat and dog in the monastery (he's relayed all of their names to Linhardt, several times), most of his meals, his axe after it’s been freshly sharpened, the way the sun feels on the first day of spring. And he shares that love every day with whole voice and his whole body. Just yesterday he had pulled Bernadetta into a bear hug after she executed a particularly impressive shot on the training grounds, and she had been surprised only because of how sudden it was. It’s genuine every single time; Caspar has never been inauthentic a day in his life.

Linhardt loves quietly, almost in secret. His love is rushing to Caspar's side to heal him the moment anything seems the tiniest bit amiss. It's rolling his eyes at how excited Caspar is about the type of biscuits that are being served at the dining hall, and still sneaking him an extra one. It's holding his hand under the table during war council meetings.

( _This will all be over in six months, a year_ he says without words as their fingers intwine, Linhardt trying his hardest not to fall asleep as Ferdinand and Edelgard debate… something. _and then we can be happy together, without a care in the world._ )

He likes touching Caspar; he always has. It feels comfortable. It feels right. But it's hard to say that out loud, to have it come out right and not sound trite. They've never really discussed their relationship, really; there's never been any reason to. Linhardt just woke up one day, honestly, and looked at Caspar and Caspar looked at him and he thought 'oh, I guess I'm in love with you now' and that was that. Platitudes were useless when it came to relationships; all that mattered was that the feelings be mutual.

Caspar had blushed so hard that his ears turned red the first time that Linhardt kissed him ("what was that?!" "I just kissed you"), and the second ("warn a guy next time, will you?" "okay. I'm going to kiss you again, if you don't have any objections."), and the third ("...do that thing with your teeth again"), and pretty much every other time.

They never bothered to define their relationship then, or ever. Not when they snuck out of the ball, separately, and ended up at the Goddess Tower, together; not when they discussed in secret what they thought of Edelgard's coup and decided, together, that joining her would be in each of their best interests (and maybe Fódlan's as well, but that was a bonus). Certainly not when they were in bed together, Caspar an active, enthusiastic lover to Linhardt's slow, deliberate passion.

His hand seeks out Caspar's now, too, as they lie in bed, and he finds it easily. Caspar's hand is large, callused. There's a scar across the back, from a close call with a swordsman, and his nails were always short, bitten off in the middle of dull classes or tense meetings. It's a sharp contrast to Linhardt's own hands, slim and soft. (Some of the girls ask him how he keeps it that way and sometimes Caspar does too, but it’s really not so hard when he simply refuses to so much as touch a blade.)

Caspar finally breaks the silence, after Linhardt assumes he's given up on their conversation and fallen asleep. This is just about the only time he ever seems to slow down and Linhardt always welcomes those rare quiet moments, but Caspar’s voice is equally welcome. "Yeah, but you'll tell me if you don't like something, right?"

It’s hard not to laugh at that, as if there is anything that Caspar could possibly do that he would truly be opposed to. "Caspar, you know I’m no stranger to telling you no. I did it yesterday, when you asked me if I wanted to help you climb a tree, remember?”

“I know! But this is different, so.... promise me?”

"I promise," Linhardt says, and Caspar hums in appreciation. "And I would ask the same of you, except you're an open book anyway."

"What's th-" Caspar pauses to stifle a yawn, and Linhardt marvels again that he's awake; he himself would have all but passed out ten minutes ago, in Caspar's position. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's a complement, now go to sleep."

Caspar obeys, or at least pretends to, and Linhardt is able to relax into his arms, endlessly glad to be in love. Maybe he’ll say it out loud one day, or maybe not; he’ll make sure Caspar understands, either way.

**Author's Note:**

> I've shipped this ever since I read a brief description of their relationship... being a Fire Emblem fan for me is just going from one jock/nerd childhood friend ship to the next.
> 
> The title comes from an Emeli Sandé song:  
>  _See the times are changing  
>  And I'm sure of nothing that I know  
> Except this is us, and this is love, and this is where I'm home  
> In a world that's breaking, where nothing is for keeps  
> Oh this is us, this is love and this is where I sleep_
> 
> Feel free to add me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/seraphknights)!


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